Day Six (Saturday)
Edward enjoyed what he realised was his sixth cooked breakfast in a row. He’d already decided to have something else the following day. He would at least once a week for as long as he was there, although he still had no idea how long that might be. He was undecided. Whilst he was enjoying himself and doing different and diverse things, he’d remain in Swansea. One morning, he’d probably wake up and decide to get the train back to Oxford in the same spontaneous, casual manner he’d decided to come in the first place. An almost childish whim had brought him here. Something similar would probably take him back again. He’d spent all his life planning for every eventuality. He was done with that. He was only really planning one day at a time, the one he was in. The days after would he imagined take care of themselves.
It was the weekend, and the breakfast room was a little busier. The tables were largely taken with pre-season holidaymakers, no doubt anxious to enjoy their breaks before the schools broke up for half-term and then the summer. Most of the week, Edward had found himself in the company of lone, travelling businessmen and students from abroad, visiting the nearby university campus. There was a noticeably different atmosphere at the weekend. It had been very quiet on the weekday mornings. Alan had made most of the conversation. Now, there was a little more chatter among the holidaying retired couples and one young family with two children. Edward imagined they were just enjoying a weekend getaway to the Gower Peninsula, which he planned to visit today possibly. By Monday, they’d probably be gone and back where they’d come from. Once again, he’d be breakfasting virtually on his own. Having eaten, Edward gave his thanks to Alan and Gwen and said he’d see them later.
‘Any plans for the weekend?’ Alan asked, in his usual warm and enthusiastic manner.
‘I thought I might head out onto the Gower if the weather stays fine,’ Edward replied. ‘If I don’t make the most of the sunshine, it’s sure to change.’
‘Yes, indeed. Make hay whilst the sun shines,’ Alan agreed.
Edward smiled back. He’d made a good choice with this guesthouse, if a lucky one. Alan and Gwen were cheerful and welcoming. He’d certainly landed on his feet here. In his head, he was already making plans to return should the chance arise. He was determined to try and make it happen if he could. He wouldn’t leave coming to Swansea so long again. Perhaps he’d make it an annual pilgrimage. He’d always intended to return regularly after graduating. Angela had planned too as well. They had at first. Then the kids had come along, and real life had taken over. They could have brought Victoria and Henry to the Gower more. Edward wasn’t quite sure why they hadn’t. The children weren’t all that interested in their parents’ Welsh past in truth. There were places nearer to home they liked to visit.
Edward sat on his usual bench, looking out over the bay for a few moments, before taking the coastal road to the bus station. He had little doubt he could pick up a bus on the Oystermouth Road, but he preferred to go the main bus station by the Quadrant Shopping Centre. He could enquire there what his best options were for visiting the Gower, and perhaps pick up some bus timetables. It didn’t really matter if he spent the whole day meandering from one bay to the next, as long as the rain held off. Edward decided not to visit Meredith’s coffee shop. He recalled Saturday was her day off that week. He’d no doubt see her again the following week, when he returned for another one of her delicious cakes.
Edward made his enquiries at the information desk. He was advised to get a rover ticket, which would allow to hop on and off any bus that passed. That seemed ideal for his needs. As it happened, the first one that he got on was the same one he’d used the previous day to reach The Mumbles. Again, it was very busy and there was hardly a seat left free on it. It made good progress down the Oystermouth Road, which it joined at the junction just past the guesthouse where Edward was staying. It passed the St Helen’s Rugby and Cricket Ground and the lower entrance to Singleton Park. Then it passed the entrance to the main university campus, where several students got on and off, despite the fact it was the weekend. After that, they passed Singleton Hospital and the boating lake and the sports field and complex, where Edward had played many a match in his youth.
He’d been good at football, rugby, and tennis among other sports, but he’d never considered himself part of the Athletic Union’s cliques. Each sports had its own, but Edward had never quite managed to become a member of the inner circle of any, despite his relative sporting prowess. At a big university, there was of course always someone better, no matter how good you were at any given sport. If you were good at rugby or football, someone else was an international. Indeed, several notable Welsh internationals had been at Swansea when Edward was there. It had made him feel a little ordinary and he’d turned his attentions instead to other interests, just playing sport purely for pleasure.
The bus continued into Blackpill and past the entrance to the picturesque expanses of Clyne Gardens. It was another scenic location Edward wished to visit before his return home. It had been popular place of solace for Edward and Angela when they first met, and she was still a resident of Clyne Halls. They’d gone there much less after their first year, when they’d taken rooms in a shared house in the Uplands, but it had retained happy memories for them.
After Blackpill, the bus passed through the small community of West Cross. Edward had always been grateful for a local, convenience store there, where he could buy a drink and a snack, when he occasionally chose to take an afternoon stroll from Swansea to Mumbles and back again. Of course, he’d been young and fit then. It had been no great undertaking at the time. It would be too much for him now. The small stretch of the route he’d walked the previous day had been enough. The bus passed Oystermouth Castle where Edward had previously got off. This time he stayed on for another couple of stops, eventually getting out at the Langland Bay car park.
It was a beautiful late spring day in May, when Edward alighted in pleasant sunshine with blue skies above him. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. Langland and it’s the adjacent bay of Caswell had been regular destinations for Edward and his friends in the summer term, when exams had finished, and they were yet to return home. There, they’d frolicked happily and playfully on the sands before retiring to a local hostelry. Strangely, they had rarely ventured further onto the Gower, though one or two of their fellow undergraduates had rented accommodation at Bishopston and Gowerton, normally those privileged few with cars. Very few students had owned cars in Edward’s days. It was common to now, Edward observed.
Edward hadn’t been to Langland for forty years or more, but the view and the beach at least seemed quite familiar to him. It appeared relatively unchanged and untouched, which was always a good thing in Edward’s mind, although the number of buildings seemed to have expanded since Edward’s day or how he remembered it. He recalled it being quieter. Perhaps it was a little busier simply because it was a nice day. Edward and his friends had probably gone on a weekday not at the weekend. It was no matter. Edward would be lost and absorbed in his own silent thoughts, regardless of how many others were enjoying the same walk.
This was the start of Edward’s journey proper for the day. This was one of the reasons he’d come. He wouldn’t be spending time on the sand, as he had as an undergraduate. There would be no opportunity for that. He had to press on. He’d be taking the coastal path round to Caswell Bay. He’d done so in his student days and would now do so again. He was sure he and Angela had done the walk together at least once. It was less than two miles, and it was easily negotiated, even for a man of his advancing years. He’d even googled it to check. It was considered one of the easiest and most gentle walks to take on the Gower. That suited Edward to a tee.
Edward wasn’t a huge fan of heights, but this was just about tolerable to him. He didn’t have to walk too near any edges. Instead, he could just enjoy the views onto the two bays and the sight and sounds of waves crashing against rocky outcrops below. There were parts of the Gower that were far steeper and harder to traverse. Edward would certainly avoid those. The cliffs here were relatively gentle in comparison and for much of the walk a handy handrail provided protection from falling.
As he walked, Edward’s thoughts turned inevitably to Alice. He’d managed to push her to the perimeters of his mind for the last day or two and not think about her too much. Now, she was back again with a vengeance. It was probably because it was the weekend. Edward wondered where she was. Was she at home? Was she with Paul at his place? Worse still, was she with Paul in Edward’s house? Perhaps she’d gone to stay with her mother or a friend whilst the dust settled. Perhaps she was packing her suitcases and preparing to move out at that very moment. Perhaps Paul was on his way over in the car to fetch her. Perhaps none of these possible scenarios was the correct one. Perhaps she was simply carrying on as if nothing had happened and was now waiting patiently for Edward’s return. He had no means of knowing which was the case. All this was idle speculation on his part.
He really must phone her at some point, he reflected. At the very least, he should check her messages and perhaps text her himself. He just couldn’t quite bring himself to. The betrayal had been enormous. The shock had been great. Whilst he wasn’t as angry as he could have been, he still felt humiliated and was finding it very difficult to forgive her. It hadn’t been a total surprise of course. She was young and attractive. Paul was handsome too. They probably made a fine couple. They were no doubt perfect for each other. Edward’s looks on the other hand were on the wane and slowly fading. He wouldn’t get any better-looking now. That was certain. He’d been a fool. He’d been taken advantage of. He was partly at fault. He had to shoulder a degree of the blame. He should have seen it coming. He should have put two and two together before. He’d been painfully slow to catch on.
Even as he thought about Alice, the natural beauty he was seeing slowly began to push her out of his mind. The air was clean and fresh. It was a joy to breathe it in. The views were quite breathtaking. He could see for miles all around him. Seabirds of all sorts flew to and from the rocky ledges below and above him. As he walked, he took a number of photographs for posterity. At one point, he was fortunate enough to see the head of what he took to be a grey seal break the foamy surface of the blue-green seawater. Edward stood and watched it in wonder for a while. He could see its sleek, streamlined shape, gliding gracefully through the waves. It was perfectly suited and adapted to a marine life. Eventually, Edward lost sight of the seal, as it plunged to greater depths. It had been a brief, exquisite moment. He’d witnessed nature in its natural element first-hand. The memory would remain with him for a long time.
It wasn’t much further before Caswell Bay came into full view, as he gradually descended down onto it. It actually seemed even more familiar to him than Langland had. Perhaps it was his imagination, but it seemed even less changed. It really was unspoiled beach and rocks, just as he remembered visiting as a student. Then he, Angela and their friends would have headed straight for the clear, blue waters to swim and splash about. Some families with children were doing just that. Edward would leave them to it. His swimming in the sea days were a thing of the past and long behind him. He’d come prepared for walking not paddling and getting wet. He was happy to see others enjoying the beach and cool waters, however.
At the Caswell Bay car park, Edward waited for a bus to take him on the next leg of his Gower journey. He bought himself an ice cream to enjoy, while he waited. It would replace his usual morning coffee. It felt like summer anyway. It was so pleasant Edward didn’t mind waiting the thirty or more minutes it took for a bus to come. He happily got on, as the bus meandered its way round the bay towards Bishopston. As it crossed the delightful, rugged Gower countryside, he could see the scenic outline of Three Cliffs Bay emerging in the distance. He wouldn’t stop on this occasion, although part of him would like to have done. It wasn’t somewhere they often went as students. He’d perhaps only been there once on a field trip. Oxwich Bay Beach and Port Eynon followed similarly shortly after, then Mewslade Bay Beach. Edward only got out again when the bus stopped at Rhossili. Rhossili Bay Beach was Edward’s furthest planned destination.
He recalled the last time he’d been here he’d been battered by high winds and rain, despite it being June. It was very different today. There was just a light breeze, and the seas were calm and blue. The skies above were almost cloudless. It was like chalk and cheese. Edward preferred it like this. Who wouldn’t? Only a sadist. Edward definitely wasn’t one of those. He was now a retired man who enjoyed his creature comforts and disliked discomfort. He’d spent most of his working life in an office. He wasn’t a hardy, outdoor type by nature, although he was happy with this. Sitting on a bench and looking at the sands that extended long into the distance, he felt content. It would take a lot of this to upset him, he thought.
Edward found a charming café by the National Trust Visitor Centre, where he could have his lunch. In fact, he found two and couldn’t decide which to go into. He was so undecided, he ended up having his lunch in one and a dessert in the other. It seemed the only fair thing to do in the circumstances. Something of a self-made man himself, Edward was always keen to support and do his bit for local businesses. Having finished eating, Edward found another pleasant spot from which to observe the beach and read his book. There, he was happy to spend an hour or two relaxing in the agreeable and gently warming sunshine.
It was late afternoon when Edward finally rose to his feet. He could have walked further along the bay, but it was hot, and he found he couldn’t be bothered. Instead, he slowly ambled his way back to the bus stop. There, he got the inland bus that took him straight back into Swansea, although he could still enjoy views of the coastline and sea for most of the way. It had been a lovely day, one of the best. They all had since his arrival, each as good if not better than the day before. He was very glad he’d come away. He was thankful for the time he was spending in Wales, with his memories. It was exactly what he needed. It was helping him get his head straight and come to terms with events of the last week. They didn’t seem quite so important now. Part of him was starting to view it as relatively trivial in the grander scheme of things. After all, Angela had always been the one. It was never Alice he was coming to realise.
Edward slumped on his bed and dozed for a while when he got back to his room. When he eventually woke up, he switched the television on and made himself a cup of coffee. He then read for a bit, before jumping in the lukewarm shower. It hadn’t got any warmer since his day of arrival. It was keeping the guesthouse’s running costs down. Perhaps that helped to make it so cheap. Edward emerged feeling refreshed. Once dry, he put on another of his clean, new shirts. It was Saturday night and he’d already decided he was going out. He’d hit the town, in a manner of speaking. He wouldn’t have his evening meals at one of the local pubs tonight. He’d make his way into the city centre and find somewhere there. He was to all intents and purposes a single man now. Alice had Paul, or at least had been with him. Perhaps Edward might get lucky and meet some eligible divorcee he could have a conversation with. He knew he was only kidding himself. He wasn’t ready to meet anyone else, even if he could. He’d need to properly resolve the situation of his marriage one way or another first and let a certain amount of time pass to heal. Only then could he think of the possibility of letting someone else into his life. Even so, the thought that he was going out like the old days brought a glimmer of a smile to Edward’s face.
It was nearly seven o-clock when Edward set out. He took the St Helen’s Road route. The centre was busy of course. It was a Saturday night. It was hardly surprising. Young men and women were heading out in their droves for the evening. There were people of all ages, but the majority were in their twenties and thirties. That was one change that had taken place since Edward’s day. Back then, anyone over twenty-five going to a nightclub would have felt practically geriatric. People got married, settled down and had children earlier in life. Now, these things were often left to their later years. People continued pubbing and clubbing into their forties and even fifties. They often resumed after painful divorces. That would never have happened when Edward was a young man. Now, anyone could go out if they wanted to, although the majority naturally remained young or younger than Edward. He of course was beyond even the most upper limit of what would have been deemed acceptable to go to a nightclub. He wouldn’t be doing that even if he could. He fully intended to be back at the guesthouse not long after nine o’clock.
Edward found a pleasant café-bar on what had once been the site of the David Evans department store, in which to eat. It was quite busy, but not unacceptably so. Edward chose a table in a quiet corner where he could eat in private relaxation. The lighting was dimmed, so Edward didn’t feel too conspicuous alone. He was probably the only diner eating by himself. It didn’t overly concern him. He was used to it. He’d had to many times during his working days. It had been normal then, though he’d often dined with work colleagues too. Alice wouldn’t have been able to do it. She’d have felt too awkward, wandering into a crowded café or bar without someone to accompany her. That was the good thing about being happy in your own company and own skin, as Edward was. He didn’t feel he required anyone. He was happy if they wanted to tag along, but he didn’t need them. He was yet to feel homesick. He was very content pottering about as he was.
Edward enjoyed a large glass of Malbec with his meal. As it was a Saturday night, he decided he’d also have a pint of ale before heading back. He walked past the pedestrian area that was known as Castle Square and turned down into Wind Street by the ruins of Swansea Castle. It had once been a scene of trouble on Saturday nights in the past, but a lot of the pubs had been replaced by trendy, modern eating houses, so it wasn’t quite as rowdy these days. It was still lively, but most of the vocal groups of tipsy young men and women weren’t interested in an old man like Edward. They let him be and walk past them unmolested, for which he was grateful. Although he felt a bit like a fish out of water, he was interested in observing what young people got up to in the modern world. He’d been so long married and/or looking after children growing up, he really had little idea. He hadn’t really socialised properly since he was about thirty, except for work and related events, and the kind of more sophisticated social gatherings the older, middle-class folk of Oxford enjoyed. These included things like dinner parties, exhibition openings and book launches. Through his own contacts and Alice’s, and his status as a rich, local dignitary, he was invited to more than his fair share of such things, it had to be said. What Edward was witnessing now was very different indeed.
Edward passed an Irish pub of one side of the street and a Wetherspoon’s on the other. He also passed one where he could see scantily clad females cavorting on the tables for the benefit of the punters. That definitely wasn’t Edward’s kind of place. It hadn’t been when he was a young man. It certainly wasn’t now. It was something he’d had have more expected to encounter on the streets of London’s Soho than in Swansea, although he did remember seeing one or two strippers at nightclubs in the city centre back in the day. He’d never seen any in Oxford, though there was probably a place somewhere nearby if you wanted that kind of thing.
Eventually, Edward found a bar that was a little more salubrious, at the bottom end of Wind Street near the Maritime Quarter, where he sat and enjoyed a pint of strong, locally brewed beer. When Edward left, he looked at his watch. It was nine o’clock. It was time to head back. Wind Street was distinctly busier and noisier now. Swaying members of several hen parties were cackling loudly. There was drunken shouting. A group of homeless people were having some minor altercation. Edward had seen enough. It was time to leave and make good his escape. He’d only returned here as it was Saturday night. He slipped almost unnoticed through the gathering scenes of alcohol-fuelled mayhem. He walked past the market, the Quadrant and the Grand Theatre and headed downwards to take the coastal path back. It was still only twilight. He’d welcome the peace and quiet of the waters of the sandy bay, after the clamour and commotion of the city centre.
Back in the welcome familiarity of the guesthouse, Edward pushed his front door key into the lock. He wasn’t surprised to find Alan and Gwen still up and sitting in the lounge. Both had a small glass in front of them, which they were sipping from, as they relaxed watching the television. Edward would have one with them before heading up, he decided. It was the weekend, and it was too early to go to bed.
‘Mind if I join you?’ he asked.
‘Of course not,’ Gwen replied, the first to speak. ‘We only wish more of our guests took advantage of our little bar. Hardly any do. I’m not sure they realise it’s here.’
Edward had in fact been staying a few days before he found a folder, detailing all the guesthouse’s facilities and amenities, tucked away in a drawer, some he had no idea about.
‘Will it be a scotch and soda?’ Alan enquired, quickly rising to his feet in response to Edward’s sudden appearance.
‘It will indeed if you have one,’ Edward replied.
‘So, how was your day?’ Gwen asked. ‘The weather stayed nice, and we managed to get out for a walk round the bay ourselves.’
‘Did you make it up onto the Gower?’ Alan wondered.
‘I did,’ Edward said. ‘It was lovely there today, not all that different from how I remembered it, though one or two new things to see of course.’
‘The National Trust looks after large parts of it, so it stays relatively unspoiled,’ Alan said.
‘I’m sure that’s a good thing,’ Edward commented. ‘You wouldn’t want buildings popping up all over it.’
‘Definitely not,’ Gwen agreed.
‘Have you had any more thoughts about how long you’ll be staying with us?’ Alan enquired.
‘Not really,’ Edward answered, truthfully. ‘But I think it will be another week. By the way, when the weekend’s over, let me pay you for everything I’ve had so far.’
‘You can settle up at the end of your stay,’ Alan said.
‘No, I insist. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. One good thing about a life in finance is that I’m not short of a bob or two now,’ Edward said.
‘Well, if you’re happy to,’ Alan said.
After three drinks, Edward decided perhaps it was time he opened up a little to Alan and Gwen about his real reasons for being in Swansea.
‘This is a kind of holiday for me, but it wasn’t planned,’ he started to explain. ‘I’d been meaning to come for some while but was always too busy with work. Just recently I retired, so it became a realistic possibility. Time suddenly is more or less my own, to do with as I will, probably for the first time since my long summer holidays as a student. As I mentioned, I was an undergraduate here and it’s where I met my first wife, Angela. It holds many memories for me.’
Edward paused for a moment and took a sip of his drink. He wondered if he should go on, and then he thought what the hell! They seemed like nice people.
‘What actually prompted me to come away this week is that I saw my second wife, Alice, with another man, a work colleague called Paul,’ Edward disclosed.
Gwen let out a little gasp of shock.
‘Oh no,’ she said.
‘Are they having an affair?’ Alan asked.
‘Well, I confronted her and that appears to be the case,’ Edward confirmed. ‘Alice is younger than I am and an attractive woman. Paul is very handsome. I shouldn’t be surprised really. It just knocked me for six and I decided to come here to get my head straight and decide what I should do about it,’ Edward said.
‘Well, stay as long as you like to do that,’ Alan said, looking concerned for his guest.
‘Thank you, I will,’ Edward responded, trying to remain dignified in difficult circumstances.
‘Marriages can recover from these things, if you both try to work through your problems,’ Gwen said, trying to be helpful in an awkward situation.
‘I know they can,’ Edward agreed. ‘I’m just not sure it’s what I want. I can see now perhaps Alice was with me for the wrong reasons. My first wife, Angela, was my true soulmate. I tried my best to pretend it was the same with Alice, but it wasn’t really. That’s why I need time to think. I haven’t been in touch with her yet or checked or answered her messages. I’ll have to at some point. I may well get back to find she’s gone anyway. Perhaps that’s what part of me wants. Then, I won’t be left with any difficult decisions to make. It will all be decided for me. It will be a fait accompli.’
‘I hope things all work out,’ Gwen said, smiling sympathetically at Edward.
‘I’m sure they will,’ he said, finishing his drink and getting up. ‘Time for me to get to bed, I think. I’ve said more than enough for one evening. Goodnight, see you in the morning.’
‘Will you want your usual breakfast?’ Alan asked.
‘No, I think I’ll have something different tomorrow,’ Edward said. ‘Poached eggs would be nice.’
